


till the gravity's too much

by sumaru



Series: team oikage two seventeen [9]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Future Fic, Kageyama Tobio's Unrelenting Thirst, Kissing, Kissing Booths, M/M, Pining, Post-Canon, What's A Few Lipstick Stains Between (Maybe) Friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 07:13:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14038953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sumaru/pseuds/sumaru
Summary: “Pay up or get out, Tobio-chan,” Oikawa snaps, but his tongue flicks out fast, presses against his upper lip like a snake’s, and the hot air moves between them as Oikawa starts to lean over the kissing booth table anyway.Kageyama can't stop staring at Oikawa's mouth.





	till the gravity's too much

 

 

 

Kageyama can’t stop staring at Oikawa’s mouth.

It’s fully, unbearably summer. The late afternoon sun is bright as hell and just as hot, and Kageyama blinks under the heavy heat that bears down on him like twin hands digging into his chest. Kageyama’s lips are always chapped in this terrible summer weather. He keeps pulling them in between his teeth in a sorry attempt to moisten them. But all it does is worry the skin raw, and when he looks at Oikawa’s mouth, wet and red in a way that his own mouth is not, wonders how exactly something so wet and red would taste, Kageyama finds it hard to breathe suddenly. Or maybe it might be the flash of Oikawa’s straight white teeth as he needles Kageyama that’s making it hard to breathe. Kageyama isn’t sure anymore. He’s still staring at Oikawa’s mouth as the lips form around an “O” shape, the tips of it thinning into a pointed smile, and Kageyama can feel sweat slowly drip into the dip of his spine, sticking the thin cotton shirt to his back. It’s really fucking hot today. He wishes he had brought his water bottle with him from the gym.

“Pay up or get out, Tobio-chan,” Oikawa snaps, but his tongue flicks out fast, presses against his upper lip like a snake’s, and the hot air moves between them as Oikawa starts to lean over the table anyway. There’s a glass jar by his elbow, filled with carefully folded yen notes from girls who had paid for the privilege. The kissing booth was supposed to be closed, making way for the evening’s hanging paper lanterns and chance games of their university’s summer festival. But Oikawa was still here, the faintest pink smear staining the outline of his mouth where old lipstick had been hastily wiped off. Another privilege to be paid for.

“Why are you still here,” Kageyama glowers instead. Oikawa’s lips looks flush; a little raw, too. It had been a busy day today, when Kageyama had come around lunchtime to check in on Oikawa, had watched as a pretty girl pressed shy lips against the full of Oikawa’s gently smiling mouth. Kageyama had left quickly then, rubbing furiously at his own lips, wiping away a feeling he didn’t quite want to think about. “We have an exhibition game tonight.”

“My darling little kouhai sure likes bossing me around, doesn’t he,” Oikawa says. His voice lilts as sunlight pours down around them, slants in deep shadows across Oikawa’s face; it makes it hard to see his eyes. He’s still leaned over close, and Kageyama can smell the leftover mint on his breath. “Just for that, it’ll be 2000 yen for you.”

Kageyama can’t help the way he immediately straightens up, hand at the pocket where his wallet is tucked. Oikawa’s gaze doesn’t stray from Kageyama’s face at all; his eyes only narrow as he watches Kageyama’s skin flush red and blotchy, catching the movement of Kageyama’s hand from the corner of his eye.

“But _this_ ,” Oikawa smiles sharp and sweet as he pulls lipstick from his pocket, because he knows, _of course_ he knows, and Kageyama feels something hot and tight choke in his throat as Oikawa’s long fingers curl smoothly around the black lacquer tube. He prods it pointedly into Kageyama’s chest with each word. “ _This_ will be an extra 1000 yen.”

Kageyama stares at the way Oikawa’s teeth clip against the word _yen_ , pink tongue sliding wet on the consonant, and hears himself grit out between his teeth, wanting, not wanting, but it’s so _hot_ today who can even think properly, “Will you let me put it on you, Oikawa-san?” He’s still trying to be polite, like that will get him somewhere, even now, despite everything. Despite wanting to know how it would feel to glide something so smooth and heavy and pink against Oikawa’s mouth. Despite wanting to know what Oikawa’s warm tongue would feel like if it accidentally swiped against his thumb.

Something like surprise scrunches up Oikawa’s nose for just a moment; the small victory settles nicely in Kageyama’s chest until he’s suddenly staring at the plush of Oikawa’s mouth, presented to him wordlessly, eyes closed. Oikawa looks almost kind like this, his lashes soft against his cheek and nothing of his mouth or his gaze cutting into Kageyama at all. His lips part slightly; Kageyama can almost feel Oikawa’s breathe on his own dry lips, and he startles, just staring at the offered tube of lipstick. The idea of making a mess of Oikawa’s neat mouth is suddenly too much. A long moment passes slow and hazy in the golden sun, and Kageyama’s hands that never tremble, tremble maybe just a little.

“Annoying,” Oikawa finally snaps against Kageyama’s mouth as he grabs for his shoulders to brace himself over the table. “Idiot. _Brat_.”

Oikawa’s tongue is hot and wet in his mouth. Oikawa’s fingers grip him too tightly. Oikawa’s hair is so soft under his hands it feels exactly like he’s always imagined it, like a cloud, like air, like a thousand times better than that. Oikawa’s teeth pull at his lips like he’s trying to say something, and pull even more insistently when Kageyama’s voice chokes out a bewildered, breathless, “Oikawa-san?”

“Do you ever listen to yourself, Tobio,” Oikawa huffs against the side of Kageyama’s mouth. He’s pulled Kageyama toward him over the table, and the edge of it is pressing a little painfully into Kageyama’s belly, but he finds that he doesn’t care. He’s wound so tight everything hurts a little, his skin feels too hot like this, he thinks about the light grey of his sweatpants and if anything shows, and if embarrassment actually means anything at all when even his skin aches this much. Oikawa pushes the lipstick into his hand, long fingers wrapping around his, and it’s like something that burns so hot that Kageyama almost drops it, but Oikawa lips are sliding against his again, gently this time, closed mouth and almost too sweet and chaste for the way Kageyama clutches hands desperately at the air to chase this, and Kageyama’s chest is tightening with the afternoon sun that burns a patch against the back of his neck, warm like Oikawa’s skin, warm like all of this single August moment searing itself into the small desperate space of his mouth. “Okay,” Kageyama tries to say. “Okay.” He's definitely hard now.

“Don’t just say ‘okay’ like I’m passing you a water bottle,” Oikawa says as Kageyama’s fingers fumble along the unfamiliar territory of the tube. Oikawa is looking down at him with narrowed eyes as as he finally uncaps it, and Oikawa is still looking at him as Kageyama, hands more sure than ever in his entire life, starts to slowly outline Oikawa’s lips in pink. The lipstick is heavy in Kageyama’s hand; he feels breathless and hot and he knows he’s sweating through his shirt under Oikawa’s scrutiny, and Kageyama can’t escape the thought pressing into the overwhelming space inside his chest, hammering into his lungs; that his hands are marking Oikawa’s mouth, inch by slow, slow inch.

“I’m done,” Kageyama says stupidly. He’s trying not to frown a little at his handiwork.

“So what’s the plan now, Tobio-chan.” Oikawa’s mouth is a deep pink smirk. The lipstick is done so painstakingly neat, and Kageyama feels a little swell of pride for a job well-done, feels it stutter as Oikawa reaches up with a thumb, looks him right in the eye, and starts to slowly smear through the pink across his mouth, dragging against his lower lip to show just a hint of white teeth.

Kageyama’s trajectory is perfect as always. But he manages to smash their teeth together anyway as he takes Oikawa’s thumb into his mouth along with Oikawa’s tongue, hands twisting into Oikawa’s nice crisp polo shirt. The lipstick doesn’t taste very good, sweet vanilla and artificial and nothing like the mint he was chasing from under Oikawa’s tongue just a moment ago, but Oikawa is breathing wet and heavy in his mouth, and Kageyama can feel himself burning with Oikawa’s fingers on his shoulders, scratching painfully against the side of his ribs, pushing at the elastic of his straining jersey pants, and the insistent brush of Oikawa's fingers so close to him almost undoes him right then and there.

This is the final price that Oikawa makes Kageyama put into the little glass jar:

     All the ready cash he has in his wallet.

     The milk box he was saving for later to help wash the aftertaste from Oikawa’s tongue. 

     A box of makeup wipes from the corner store, to clean the lipstick smeared across Oikawa’s mouth, and staining deep pink the length of Kageyama’s sun sweat skin.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> WHAT IS THIS MESS I DON'T EVEN KNOW!! but I found it again and shoved it on here so I guess y'all can have it for maybe a little while.
> 
> Actually, I just remembered that this happened because DID YOU KNOW!! there is video of stageplay Kageyama trying to apply lipstick to stageplay Oikawa and my """"friends""" kept making me watch it because they apparently love to see my soul just like, leave my entire body while screaming.
> 
> I love a good lipstick. Title is from [Treacherous](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E8wAFo2_URg).


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